AVP: Jungle of Teeth
by KitKatKittyKat007
Summary: Born in a world where hunting is the point of life itself, one man will be taken to a planet where he and other young yautja will prove themselves bloodworthy. Problem: he's attracted to a woman who's a hybrid of their most valued hunts, the Hard Meats.


Beginning

At the late twilight towards the birth of a new day, the jungle, to this year, was filled with the captivated heat from the early morning till sundown. Particularly on the month of this night was the hottest summer for the jungle to greedily eat away the sun's rays and store below the branches of its fruitful children. The usual tweets and chatters of the bird and clicks and songs of the neighboring insects were not heard that night. The wind, as if aligned with the creatures of the jungle, receded from touching the leaves and ferns, the leaves themselves remained immobile and, in a rare nature gone unseen from humanity, still. All was quiet, except for the rather small village resting within the mouth of the jungle.

It was the local villager that broke the disturbing state of the jungle's unnatural slumber. Running as mad as a rapid hound, criss-crossing in every direction, hurtling his worn torn body to every direction with eyes frantically surveying his surroundings without rest. In his moment of a breath-take, the innards of his chest ruptured at a sudden instant to a crimson stain on the earthly floor. The body rolled and slumped, twitched for a while, then stilled.

The village itself was under siege. Buildings were being burned to the ground, streets littered with the massacre of what was used to be the very subject of street's purpose. Bodies that were either burned to mere stumps or mutilated by plasma burners, increased by the numbers as the fire soon began to engulf the village with each passing minute.

Where the fire had yet to reach, and streets still intact, ran a young child who was coated in ash and the blood of the massacre that he was forced to witness.

It had all happened too fast for the boy, who hours ago was picking the early vegetation of the months harvest for a well-deserved meal. As he picked away what vegetables were required, it was the screams of sheer terror that would alert the end of the village's isolated peace.

At that moment the boy went against his instincts to run in the opposite direction and instead followed the voice to the center of the market place—to a scene he thought to be his imagination. It did not make sense to him—or since then—as he witnessed a man's head with his spinal cord still attached—dangling up in the air by itself. What the boy saw next only further established that he was dreaming, as dangling head was soon held by a large arm fabricated out of thin air, followed by a body, a mask, until at last the whole body became clear.

The alien remained in its current stature, clearly holding the head up high in the air in pride as it growled through the sheets. The very roars the monster emitted from beneath its mask shook the boy down to his bones.

More screams followed, soon after running, as the monster was not alone and unfortunately was unsatisfied with just one glorifying trophy.

The boy made a turn for the streets only to feel the spray of another man's blood over his face. Each lunge, bodies were already occupying the floor in bloody heaps. Each breath the boy took felt longer to take as the monster seemed to kill faster. He turned down a street alleyway and narrowly missed a red fire blast aimed for his head.

It didn't take long for the whole village to come under siege; it didn't take long for the boy to become aware of the fact that he was now the only survivor.

The very thought of his siblings and father and mother no longer among the living brought tears to the boys dirtied face, hiccupping behind garbage. His eyes burned from the ashes, blurring his vision. He tried to get up but his body refused to move. After running for so long, dodging and avoiding those savage monsters without a breath's break finally took a toll on his body. His black hair stuck to his sweaty face, his limbs limp at his sides.

Finally, after seeing that the coast was clear and the monsters had moved on, the boy slowly brought himself up from his hiding spot. That was a mistake. The second he left his spot, another monster—not the one from market—appeared before the young child with a lethal dagger attached to his arm, raised to kill just like his father had done during their hunts.

The boy took a moment to look into the giant's mask, trying to see inside for any sort of humanity or mercy. At that same moment, the boy felt his strength in his arms as the memories of his peaceful life had been destroyed by these intruders. He fell into a crouch-like pose, baring his teeth and scrunching his nose like a feral boy. If he was going to die, the young boy thought, he would die like his uncle did. A warrior.

The monster did not appear deterred by the boy's actions. It instead, to the boy's utter surprise, lowed its weapon and tilted its head in. . . amusement?

The boy screamed at the monster. "What! Can't kill small boy?" he hissed hatefully, "Come! I'm strong enough!" The small boy then began to lunge at the large giant with a raised fist, only to be batted away like an insignificant bug. The boy was for a while dazed from strength the giant possessed, but was quick on his feet and made another attack only to be batted away again, this time harder. As the boy made to get up again, he could hear the monster make soft sounds of clicks. He was laughing.

Did he find the boy's attempts to be amusing? Did he find him weak, and thus, pity him? How dare he!

The fire was already swallowing what was left of the village, and the air became less and less available as the smoke forced itself down the boy's throat. He should have knew though that, as his cough became more erratic, it never came to mind that if he wasn't slaughtered, then the fire's smoke would suffocate him for sure. But the boy refused to stop, and continued to thrash at the giant. He kicked, punched, even biting when the giant would reach him as if to grab him by his neck—but was ultimately pushed back easily. The entire time, the giant didn't seem to signify an ounce of tiredness or annoyance for the boy's persistence.

After another blocked punch, the boy could not breathe and his coughs were beyond his control, burning the back of his throat into ragged heaves of unrest. He crumbled to the ground, for his body could no longer obey to command, and hacked and cried for the monster to finally finish him off like its friends did to the rest of the villagers. He was ignored of course with the same silence, which really pissed him off.

Before gradually giving in to a dark slumber, the boy vaguely heard the giant speak in his native tongue.

"_M-di h'dlak_," he heard it state. "Strong warrior you will be."

The last feeling the young boy felt on that terrible night was being lifted from the ground and then darkness overtook him.

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><p>The day the colonists were notified they were to be relocated was suppose to be a day of great festivities. Children were suppose to frolic and cheer into their parents success for their labor. Workers, both independent, parents, and grunts alike were suppose to bask in their well-deserving fortune. The data sent had notified all working staff to be stationed to a less inhabited, less green planet. No more dark jungles, no more wild beast that snatch children who stray too far away from the electric fences, or the endless blaring heat from the planet's single sun.<p>

Until the ship finally arrived.

What the colonists did not know was that the very ship sent to spare them of their misgivings and hardships was, instead, infested with the actual purpose of their companies existence.

Xenomorphs.

The crew became infested within the hour, and soon enough less and less cries could be heard as snarling grew more intense during the cold chilled night.

Deep inside the heart of the hive, several of the colonists were being incased in slime and harvested for purposes they thought to be crueler than being eaten and killed, a merciful objection compared to being kept alive for food later.

There were, perhaps, at least ten other captives, or at least, that was what one of the captives thought.

The woman dropped her gaze to the slimed floor, accepting her fate in silent melancholy, and waited, with each passing black creature that passed by, until she was to be feasted upon as she came to determine to be her likely fate.

She didn't know what to make of things at the time. Before, she was having drinks inside the crowded cafeteria with her close friends, and enjoyed the rest of the party with her husband. She didn't take to anything alcohol. None of that for that today, despite the good circumstances. She was being careful now—had to now. That night was to be the night that she bring the good news to her husband of the addition to their future.

She was pregnant.

She couldn't have picked a more perfect partner to share with. Her husband, who already proved to be a brave, intelligent man, had a good sensible heart with enough responsible senses to be a father. His smile, she hoped, would be passed on. His eyes, which were the color of honey in the sunlight, the woman prayed her future unborn child could get and not the disgusting pale green like her mother's. Their child will also be brave, intelligent, and most of all beautiful. And when the news of leaving this planet for good had reached her, the woman wept softly of joy in her bathroom on top of the toilet clutching the pregnancy test in a white fist.

But now, she thought. I guess my child was never meant to be born in this world.

Those were her thoughts after coming to after the ordeal. She never made it past the cafeteria doors. Neither did her husband.

His fate was unknown to the woman, who after seeing how the creatures moved and acted, she was glad she never will.

Before she came to, the first thing the woman did was look for that large, deformed spider that attached itself to her face and suffocated her unconscious. But to her relief it was gone, but in her utter surprise, as she looked down to the discomfort of her lower body—saw a large swell that was her belly.

The woman didn't know what to make of it as she looked down to her current state in body. She found out she was pregnant on two days ago. So why did she have an eight-month pregnant belly three hours prior to the incident.

She just couldn't make any sense of it.

She heard a mumble and a hard intake of breath, snapped her head to her the direction, and saw one of other captives was waking up.

"O-over here," she gasped out. She tried to reach out with her only free arm, but was too far to touch the man. "L-l-look over h-here."

The man, after looking at his surroundings and to the woman, gave a sudden cry and twisted around with heaves. He clawed at his chest viciously to the point of drawing blood, and then went limp. Vomit and blood began to spewl out of his hanging mouth with his eyes rolled back. He died from what the woman could comprehend to be a heart attack. The woman looked at the man quietly in sadness, but flinched in fright back when his chest nearly leaped by itself. Something inside his chest continued to punch out, until his chest erupted in a bloody mess to the floor, and a creature, much smaller and lighter in color—jumped out of the man's chest and scurried away and out of sight.

Screaming was the next thing that processed through the woman's face when it came to her that her fate would be the same.

After screaming for so long, and forced to watch the rest of her friends and co-workers suffer the same fate as the man hoisted next to her, the woman went limp in her bonds and waited for death in silence.

She didn't know if it was daylight yet, since she was in the part of the facility where she could not make sure what time it could have been. Every now and then, the woman would doze off and wake to uncomforting touches that occurred from the inside of her body. She knew that it wasn't her baby, though. Whatever was stretching and taking refuge inside her womb was not of her blood or her species. Her child died a long time ago. Murdered by the hands of these mindless monsters. The woman cried after thinking those thoughts until she fell asleep again, which were the only times she would ever stop crying.

Her time finally in the middle of the night. As she thought it would be, the woman felt her womb tear and rip as if tiny sharp teeth were biting her from the inside. She wailed and screamed as she gave birth in a bloody mess. Her stomach stretched to the point her skin gave out to stretch marks and tore in slow agony. Blood leaked from each tear, her legs dripping in her own blood and innards as they slipped out along with something else that was black and not a part of her.

No, the woman said. It was once a part of her.

She stared down as the bloodied black lump basking in her guts on the floor, and in her last ounce of strength she wanted to make sure that the thing that she gave birth to, the very thing that she was forced to bring into this world, to know its mother hated it.

When she saw that the creature was looking up to her from the floor, curling its spinal tail around its naked form, the woman glared at it—and stopped.

What it was was not what the woman expected. Pale skin, a face with a black patch of hair with eyebrows and yellow eyes staring up with innocence in youth, human fingers, feet with toes, with the only alien characteristic being the black spinal tail. And the first thing that came to her mind was her husband's face.

With her last few breaths, the woman gave it a weak smile.

"She's looks like us. . . Jonathan."

The child on the floor looked up to the warm caccoon in a blank stare before crawling in a corner, looking in every direction with fear as others, not like that pod-like thing she had to bite her way through, made their way towards the child.

* * *

><p>Because time is limited for me, I can't waste time writing stories that no one will be interested in. So I'm hoping that you guys can review this to let me know people are actually interested in this particular story. I think once I know more people are into this story will bring up more of my confidence into writing this story.<p>

So please review. You won't die, you won't go blind. All it takes is five minutes at most and that it.

Thank you.

So please review!


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